Three hundred ninety miles from tuscon
take a cannibal to church
will she sing a hymn, will she sing a hymn?
don't laugh at her preaching, don't laugh at her preaching

there in the desert, sting ray spider ants lit up the house off the whites of her eyes
other fires would just start up on their own
some random, some by desire

Under the desert of sand and broke glass
chips of spine, knots of hair
there lies an ocean that hides the black cancer
deeper and deeper, deeper and deeper it goes

Sand flows up when this ocean rolls down
who's in the crow's nest, who's in the crow's nest?
watch for the black death, watch for the black death

no mark made, unmarked grave
buriel at sea, meant for me

no mark made, unmarked grave
buriel at sea, meant for me